The Importance of Being Armstrong
by RosieShiba
Summary: Even minor characters have a huge part to play in the world around them. Set post CoS.


**The Importance of Being Armstrong**

AN: This is a short fic for Alex Armstrong, perhaps the scariest character in the FMA series and yet we love him. Sorry if seems a little weird, but then again it is about Armstrong....

Timeline: After CoS, way after.

Pairings: Royai and slight friendly Roy/Armstrong interaction, but nothing spooky.

For generations, the Armstrong family had helped the Military by providing it with many Generals. Every Armstrong man had gone into the Military in some way and Alex Armstrong was no different. The difference was that he was one of the people who aided Mustang to bring down the old system. It had been years since Mustang had killed Bradley and the Elrics had disappeared, yet Armstrong was still in the Military. He was a General, like his father before him, and one of the most influential men in Amestris.

He was stood in his new office watching the morning sun rise over Central. He had always found it hard to sleep in since Ishbal, things never change. The morning always seemed to calm after the nightmares.

"You're early," came a voice from behind him. Armstrong turned mechanically, keeping his hands behind his back as he regarded the shorter, ebony haired man in front of him.

"I'm surprised to see you here too, sir," Armstrong replied curtly. Armstrong looked at the man's left eye which was covered by an eye patch. It was such a shame that Mustang had been injured so badly all those years ago.

"It's either don't sleep at home or don't sleep here," Mustang replied, "I prefer the serenity of the office. At least I only have to contend with a group of snobbish idiots than a baby all day."

"How is your son?" Armstrong asked, making the effort to converse with his old comrade.

"He's fine," Mustang said frowning, "It's his mother I worry about."

"How is she holding up?" Armstrong asked.

"Never have children, Armstrong," Mustang stated, "If you do make sure you can afford the best doctors, the best drugs and the best nanny in the whole country."

"She's not so well?"

"She's harassed," Mustang replied, "She's recovered fine from the birth but the baby seems to be trying her patience. I may just have to drag her in here for a day so she can relax."

"Was the birth hard?" Armstrong asked.

"She pushed out a baby," Mustang replied with an amused tone in his voice, "If I did that then I'm sure I would've been in bed for a month recovering. I've never heard that woman scream before. She scared me."

"Nothing can prepare you for it," Armstrong agreed. They both turned to see the sun rising over the buildings around head quarters. "How do things look in the West?"

"I have no idea," Mustang said, "The President seems to be keeping everything from us. I can only guess it can be bad."

A silence fell over the two.

"Politicians and women aren't so different," Mustang said. Armstrong gave Mustang a look. "They want to be treated in a way that's hard to understand and when something painful happens to them, like war or giving birth, they immediately forget it and work towards it again."

"Your wife wants another baby?" Armstrong asked. Mustang sighed but nodded. "And you?"

"I'm thinking we adopt," Mustang said, "I can't bear to hear her scream again like that."

"I doubt she'll agree," Armstrong said. Mustang shrugged.

"It's why I love her," he remarked, smirking.

"It is good that you have finally found peace, Mustang," Armstrong said after a minute or two, "I'm still a long way away from that."

"War is horrible," Mustang stated coldly.

"If we are to go into war again how will we both hold up? You wouldn't be able to sit in Parliament silently and allow it to happen," Armstrong said, "And I will never send my men into a war zone."

"No matter what?" Mustang asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We're at a stage where we need not fight our neighbours," Armstrong said, "If we're truly democratic then this will depend on our politicians not our armies."

Mustang smirked again.

"The main hall, twelve PM. Be there," he said. Armstrong was taken aback by this sudden request but he nodded all the same.

Mustang went to leave the office silently, yawning as he went. He paused at the door.

"I wonder if Riza is up yet," he said, "Maybe I should phone her to check up on her."

"She would like that," Armstrong said.

-X-

Parliament was a crowded place but Armstrong wasn't scared or nervous about stepping in there. Mustang was not in his seat. Guessing that Mustang had some sort of baby emergency (or napping session) Armstrong took his place in the centre of the room and delivered his speech about his thoughts on the war.

An hour later he looked round the room at the quietened old men (Mustang was now present, grinning like Cheshire cat). He took a deep breath before exiting the chamber. No body expected the highest ranking officer in Central to say what he did but it was a long time ago when Alex Armstrong decided he was going to help his country the best he could. His commanding officer, Lt Colonel Maes Hughes, had shown him that helping his country was the most important thing a person could do when he was killed years ago. Ishbal had convinced him that war was useless and brought only destruction to both sides and left women and children in both the heart of the fighting and the grieving afterwards. Sometimes Armstrong wondered what would have happened if he'd not realised this during the war. It took him years to realise that Mustang wasn't a heartless murderer from Ishbal, but something else.

Someone patted him on the arm. Armstrong looked down at Mustang who was still grinning.

"Good work," he said happily, "Crisis averted."

"Thank you, sir," Armstrong said with a salute.

"Now if you don't mind, I need to get home to rescue my poor wife from my spawn," Mustang said, "I swear I put too much pressure on her."

He left. Armstrong looked around at the other politicians passing him by. Some smiled at him while others ignored him. Armstrong made his way through the crowd towards his office. Once back in his sanctuary he sat on his chair and smiled. It was a good feeling that he'd done something good. He sat back in his chair relaxing, feeling peaceful for the time in a long while. Saving the lives of those people, both his own and the neighbouring country's, made him feel important for just a second. Afterwards he felt a flood of gratitude towards Mustang for allowing him to do something, even though he wasn't exactly the best officer. After all he'd abandoned his post in Ishbal and always been the slightly emotional, affluent officer in head quarters, but that didn't matter.

And that was the importance of him being Armstrong, just for one day.

Err... that was weird. Please R&R.

I would like to thank my sponsor, Techno, again for his weird thought provoking convos. So if you didn't like it, you can blame him (only joking).


End file.
